


Stigma

by cutiemutie, stevegrantrogers



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood, Blood and Injury, Character Development, Collaboration, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, Eventually other characters make appearances, F/M, Fantasy, Fighting, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Some Humor, alternative universe, long journey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutiemutie/pseuds/cutiemutie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevegrantrogers/pseuds/stevegrantrogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Across the sands, there were rumors of beings who had scars running down their arms and faces—permanently etching the mark of a failed spell-caster. The Grace they had intended to steal from the Spellmen overwhelmed them, branding them farther than just skin deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stigma

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collab between my good friend stevegrantrogers and I. I am very excited to work on this fic and am very honored to be working with her. This is my first time posting any writing. Please enjoy.

In the depths of the deep Sahara, the glow of the orbs blinded his eyes and burnt his cheeks. Shielding his eyes, he looked away, unsure whether to witness the catastrophe.

Sparks flew. The light from them caught his eyes, bringing back the life that had escaped from them many years ago. His breathing was rapid and shallow, the anticipation already coursing through his veins.

He reached for the glowing orb, feeling enchanted to it, almost as though it was the one that casted the spell. He felt his hands close in on the light and he felt it flow his bloodstream and tangle with his arteries.

He felt it start to burn.

His scream echoed through the small, dark cave. Blood stained the walls and floors. He fell to his knees, grabbing his sides. He gasped for breath and clenched his eyes to escape from the the fiery pain. He tore, releasing the bubbling pain from his arms.

First came the burn, then the rush. It was sheer madness; it was the punishment for creating a beast. His mother used to rock him to sleep with tales of young men who had been foolish enough to greet them and attempt to capture them and steal their hearts. It was said that the heart of a such a creature could give one everlasting life.

This, like all other myths, was a cleverly disguised curse. The thief would have to live through all their friends and family's death, and yet never die. They would age and remain fragile, but they were forever. They were untouchable.

Now he could laugh at the tales of the Spellmen: he knew better.

You can't have a heart if you don't have a soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written mostly by stevegrantrogers.


End file.
